Musings on Life in Ireland
Apart from driving on the wrong side of the road (ha, ha), Ireland presents some interesting and amusing facts of life.
The first and, I think, the most amusing is the report on the Irish Meterological site. I use this site for their accurate weather reporting, the satellite pictures, and the radar to track the rain.
The other morning, I got up to check the weather on the Irish Met site, and low and behold, there was an alert. Under their category of environmental warnings: “potato blight warning”. They provided information on the intensity, the local area most affected, and when it was expected to disipate. Now, where else in the world would they provide a potato blight warning? It could only be in Ireland!
I know we are not in Africa, where wild animals roam freely. Here in Ireland, it’s the sheep! This morning, on the way to the washroom block, I ran into three sheep wandering through the caravan park. Had a great conversation with one of them and then left them to their wanderings.
Okay, we all know what the colour green is. However, green in Ireland is not the green we know. It’s brilliant,it’s pervasive. Green is in the flag, it’s on the souvenirs, it’s on the professional sports gear, it’s everywhere, and it’s beautiful. Obvious – that’s what Ireland is known for. However, there’s a downside to the green – it rains consistently and intently. Despite Irish Met reporting sunny periods, one has to be outside all the time to catch those few moments. Not complaing, just stating a fact!
Stopping to stock up for what we were thinking was wild Achill Island we went shopping at the local Lidl. Having been into numerous grocery stores, we have noticed prices for fruits, veggies, and meats is way more reasonable than in Canada. However, what has struck me is not only the over packaging of food but the variety of prepared foods available. Everything is packaged. It’s hard to find a shelf of unp ackaged fruits and/or veggies. But this is also true for deli items. There are few deli counters at the grocery store, and instead, they package up pre-selected chacuterie items like the spanish cheese and ham packages. But what really struck me was the pre-packaged mashed potatoes! Really? Yes….why?
One last item. This one is the sport of hurling. Now, I remember at university, we practiced hurling on a regular basis, but this sport is definitely healthier. It’s played by both men and women. However, when women play it’s called Camogue but for both men and women it’s played with a hurl (a stick that is a cross between a golf club and a lacrosse stick) and the ball is called a sliother. Oh yes, up until 2025, women were only allowed to play the game wearing skorts, but now they can wear shorts.
I haven’t actually seen a game played, but we do see lots of kids out in the fields wielding their hurls somewhat like the vikings did with swords on the battlefield.
Well, that’s the last for now, but I am sure we will find some more interesting items of interest as we come into the last 2 weeks in Ireland.
Camping in Ireland
Today, we’re camped in a place that makes me feel like we are in an upper middle-class refugee camp. Quite literally, there are over 300 caravans: approximately 150 camper vans, another 100 caravans, and an equal number of tents.
Yes, it’s the biggest holiday weekend in Ireland’s summer schedule.
Stupid Canadians had not taken account of this, and as a result, we have taken the only camping place available on our routing or, at least, close to our routing.
It’s a mad house, but a well organized one. We’ve learned in Ireland that wild camping is not really something that is done. Someone did say that in the past, campers had parked on the side of the roads in laybys or in church yards, especially in the covid years and particularly in the Ring of Kerry and the Dingle peninsula. However, as the adage says, the minority spoiled it for the majority as they left their garbage behind, and people just got tired of itinerants making a mess.
What does this mean for us? For almost 100% of the time we are camping in designated trailer parks/camping areas. We have no reservations other than in Achill Island, and for the rest, we make a reservation or show up at campsites hoping for the best. It’s all hit and miss and in most areas there’s very few facilities.
Costs in most places average 40 Euros, which may or may not include wi-fi and/or electricity and/or showers. Overflow areas are usually located a 10 minute walk from the washrooms and have little or no restrictions on how close or far you are from your neighbour.
Thinking of wild camping? There’s no such thing as the ‘right to roam’ as there is in Scotland. Here, there are few places to just pull off the road and park. Lay bys are small and are virtually right on the edge of the road. Homes that appear to have additional spaces at their entries have placed rocks on the edge of the road to discourage people from pulling off the road to park for the night. Wild camping is definitely something that is frowned on.
The other disadvantage about camping here is that campgrounds are rarely within walking distance of a pub!
That’s camping in Ireland!
The Promised Land
Rosslaire, Ireland – we made it. The ship didn’t sink. It was an uneventful crossing made very easy from the virtually flat calm seas. We also couldn’t see a thing as the ship left at 0130hrs and arrived at daybreak. The chains were released and we were off.
First stop, Wexford. A failed attempt at trying to connect with a friends sister. With a lack of street address and a phone that was obiously not the correct one we had to move on and ended up in Waterford.
Onwards to Cork, Bantry, Kilarney, Dingle, Galway and Cong. From one day to the next we have no idea where we will end up. We hear of a special market, an event, an interesting walk or gallery or a good bakery. We are making this up as we go along. The only part of the adventure that is scripted is Achill Island . There we have a 4 night reservation at a caravan park otherwise we are going where the wind blows and there’s plenty of that.
I end this in a place called Cong. Just down the road from our caravan camp is Ashford Castle. For 7,000 Euros/night you can stay. We decided that was a little out of our budget so voted to have dinner there – ha, ha.
More to come….
Rushing to get to Ireland
It’s been a while. Believe it or not this is the first time that I have had a chance to sit down, transfer all the photos to a place I can access for the blog, have enough wi-fi access and have enough solitude to focus on putting something together. We are now at a campground close to Cork, and it has great wi-fi. Those things haven’t come easy, but here goes.
Yes, our focus has always been Ireland, but, on our way to catch the ferry across to Rosslaire from Fishquard, we had a couple of stops: one stop at Stonehenge and another at a cousin, Liz, who lives with John in Wales (see map). A number of the photos are of the landscape, some of Liz’s home, Stonehenge and a garden we visited in Wales that belongs to the Banks family. For you sailors, you probably know of the botonist , Joselph Banks from reading about James Cook’s voyages. This estate is owned by a related Banks, not the Joseph Banks that traveled with Cook.
The following photos have not been edited so some may not come out well but here goes:
The second part of the trip in England was getting from Liz’s to the ferry in Fishguard. A scenic 3 hour + drive to the coast of the Irish Sea and one night of camping before catching the 0130hrs ferry across to Ireland.
How are we Travelling
First order of business after London is a visit to cousins David and Jill who own the van we are going to usefor this adventure.
Without their kindness and generosity, we would never be able to do this trip.
Here’s the van we are using. A Ford Transit professionally outfitted:
A good couple of days visit entailing family news, eating, drinking, and generally regalling each other with stories from the last two years since we saw everyone. As with everyone’s families, we are now missing some due to age, but we remember them all with hearty stories.
London: Trying to See Everything…
All the planning and pouring over literature on places and things to do in London come to virtually nought in the scheme of things. We tried, we walked, we talked, we planned and in the end we enjoyed but were exhausted.
Here are a few pictures of the places we went and scenes we saw after 8 days of pounding the sidewalks and humping ourselves on buses and tubes. A great time and would love to return once again.
No invite to Buckingham Palace for tea unfortunately.
Finally, I have internet enough to post an abbreviated post on London. Many clamoring voices asking for more so here you go.
Off Again
Just prior to setting off to England and Ireland a friend sent this article from the June 24th edition of New Yorker Magazine. It starts off in the first couple of paragraphs with this:
What is the most uninformative statement that people are inclined to
make? My nominee would be “I love to travel.” This tells you very
little about a person, because nearly everyone likes to travel; and yet people
say it, because, for some reason, they pride themselves both on having
travelled and on the fact that they look forward to doing so.
The opposition team is small but articulate.
“travel narrows the mind.”
G. K. Chesterton wrote that
Ralph Waldo Emerson called travel “a fool’s
paradise.” Socrates and Immanuel Kant—arguably the two greatest
philosophers of all time—voted with their feet, rarely leaving their respective
home towns of Athens and Königsberg. But the greatest hater of travel, ever,
was the Portuguese writer Fernando Pessoa, whose wonderful “
Book of Disquiet” crackles with outrage:
I abhor new ways of life and unfamiliar places. . . . The idea of travelling nauseates
me. . . . Ah, let those who don’t exist travel! . . . Travel is for those who cannot feel. . . .
Only extreme poverty of the imagination justifies having to move around to feel.
If you are inclined to dismiss this as contrarian posturing, try shifting the
object of your thought from your own travel to that of others. At home or
abroad, one tends to avoid “touristy” activities. “Tourism” is what we call
travelling when other people are doing it. And, although people like to talk
about their travels, few of us like to listen to them. Such talk resembles
academic writing and reports of dreams: forms of communication driven
more by the needs of the producer than the consumer.
Regardless of what the above says we’re heading off again knowing that none of you want to hear about our meanderings, and certainly won’t listen to us when we talk about them if we get to see you.
So, we are off to England and Ireland on another camping trip. A 9 day stay in London followed by a few visits to relatives and then to Ireland for a month.
Starting off though, we have taken a house sit in Islington and are currently figuring out how to get around London. Our first stop on the list of things to do was to set a target for the Tate Modern and to view a new exhibit on Frida Kahlo
I hadn’t been to London in many years, and it’s not only the skyline that has changed. We took the 341 bus from Islington into the centre of the city and there was no-one. Granted, it was 0830hrs on a Sunday morning, but still, it wasn’t the London I knew. Not a car on the street, and very few pedestrians. Obviously, by the time we exited the Frida Kahlo exhibit, there were a lot more pedestrians but still a lack of traffic, which was really relaxing.
Tomorrow Kew Gardens for the day
Happy Holidays
From the west side of the Pacific may you have a great holiday season.
War
An unsettling feeling. However, it’s on everyone’s mind here 100km from the border with Thailand. Bombs are falling on both sides of the border, people are being evacuated, and here in Siam Reap, tourism is way down.
We are affected. We see the resettlement camps, and this morning, we headed up to the temple a few blocks away to see the art project underway to increase the international awareness of the conflict – see picture below
Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom
Sunrise at Angkor Wat. It seems to be the focus of everyone’s visit and we’re not alone.
Up at 0430hrs and out with the parade to Angkor Wat for the sunrise. Despite what they say is a lack of tourists, there’s certainly enough of them to crowd the walkways, jam the perfect locations for sunrise photos, and narrow down what are already crowded passageways. However, one can’t miss the grandeur of the moment.
Angkor Wat silhouetted agains the rising sun was spectacular providing a 40 minute exposure of increasing morning light highlighted by the towers of Angkor Wat.
Not a cloud in the sky and an unobstrutured view of Angkor Wat from across the causeway. This doesn’t stop people from carrying high-powered flashlights as they navigate the roough stone walkways, but it can’t take away the magic of the moment.
After that, it’s mayhem! It’s 0615hrs, and people stream into the interior of Angkor Wat to view the ruins. It’s hardly ruins, but of course, it’s not original. Over the years, reconstructive work has come and gone, and slowly, reconstruction is making progress. Originally, the area housed over 2 million people, but now, of course, the area is closed at 1800hrs and remains silent, giving all the ghosts an opportunity to wander around their old homes with abandon.
Here are a few pictures:
Sage on sail 